


Young and Menace

by taviceline



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Death, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 20:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10998669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taviceline/pseuds/taviceline
Summary: A short fic written on this thought: the anniversary of one's death can dredge up many memories that were better left behind. I wrote this on the anniversary of Jason's death and totally forgot to post it here. Amazingly, that was the same day that Fall Out Boy released their single. Alternate title: Wrong Side of Reality





	Young and Menace

_Ten._

Jason was walking out of his own home, ready to start off his own day. One hand was shoved into the worn-out jacket he wore. The other hand held a crowbar that he occasionally swung as he strolled. The air had a chill to it that wasn’t uncommon for Gotham at that time. Jason had barely noticed after so many nights on the street. With every single step behind him, he tensed up as if Willis was going to jump out and embrace him. _He’s dead anyway,_ he told himself. _Move on._

He raised the cigarette to his lips, ignoring the casual looks of passersby. Everyone on Crime Alley knew him. Willis Todd’s kid. A chip off the old criminal block. After Catherine died, he was known was ‘ _that goddamned thief’._ Jason thought nothing of it. A growing kid needed to eat and he refused to be like his father—dead in jail. If he had to steal, so be it.

Speaking of stealing, he’d almost passed by the Batmobile that was parked on the side. Jason stopped in his tracks. The Batmobile. He stood there for a minute, trying to decide whether he was seeing things from a lack of food that day. Batman parked his car in Crime Alley. Jason scoffed and tossed his cigarette aside, looking the car over. “What kinda bullshit…”

He stopped short as the gravity of the situation hit him. The Batmobile was next to him in Crime Alley. He had heard stories and even seen the vehicle in action a few times. The tires from that car would be worth hundreds. That could take care of food for a month or two if Jason spread it out. His mind was already thinking of prices he could negotiate for each tire as he prepared to take the first one off. It took most of his strength but he was in a position to take the tire from the car.

At least, he would’ve been able to if a certain caped someone didn’t show up in front of him. Batman was much more scowly in person. That could’ve been due to Jason’s predicament but he put that out of mind. He stared at the urban not-so-legend, almost regretting it. Almost. _Oh, shit._

_Five…_

He threw a helpless, hurt glance at Catherine. His mother. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. When he revealed himself to be Robin, he did so to help her. To let her know that he could save her from the Joker. Now, Jason was face to face with him and two of his minions. His eyes were shut tight, as if not seeing the crowbar would ease the blow. As if not looking at his mother would put a balm on the feeling of sheer hurt. Agonized cries echoed in the building and ‘mother’ could be heard among them.

One eye opened just enough to watch next swing impact against his legs. That eye caught an unforgettable glimpse of the Joker’s smile. The villain’s maniacal giggles felt like daggers that sunk into every bleeding wound and bruise. Suddenly, the beatings stopped. Jason defiantly stared into the Joker’s eyes. He saw nothing but madness and sheer joy.

“…Kick your pasty white ass,” he managed to mumble. His threat sounded weak but the steel behind his voice was evident. He spat blood onto the Joker’s shoe. That same foot delivered a swift kick into his nose before the beatings began again. He lost track of all time among the blows. For a moment, the wind was knocked out of him before the Joker hit him again.

He laid on the ground. His blood had already began to dry on the ground. Stray tears stung against his black eye and the cuts on his face. His blurred vision registered figures leaving the building. _Or was that just one…_ Every sound was muffled and rattled around his brain but he caught a faint beeping sound. He knew what it was.

_Three._

Jason struggled to his feet. As he stumbled towards the door, a trail of blood marked his path. He caught a glance of the clock. He wasn’t going to make it. He knew that. He would’ve smiled if his entire body didn’t ache. His ribs burned with every breath. He cried out as he fell on his back and next to the clock. He closed his eyes as stinging tears rolled onto the ground.

_Two._

 “I’m sorry, Bruce. Say goodbye to Alfred for me. And Dr. Thompson. Dick…tell him I wanted to do him proud. All of you. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I wish you were here. I don’t wanna be alone. Oh God—”

**_One._ **

Today, Jason picks up flowers from a local shop in Gotham. His phone buzzes with multiple missed calls and ignored texts that he knows he won’t answer. Not yet. The way he strolls into the graveyard, you would think it was his home. You would be half right. After all, it was the site of his rebirth. He kneels next to his headstone. It was nothing fancy. No marble, no heartfelt quote. It was only his name and the appropriate dates.

A familiar presence tugs at his mind. Next to him stands a willowy child, just on the edge of sixteen. He loos displeased not at the headstone, but at Jason’s presence there. “You shouldn’t be here. You’re alive. Kind of, anyway.”

Jason thinks for a moment before responding. If anyone were to see him talking to his hallucination, it wouldn’t matter. In Gotham, people talked to dead kids in graveyards all the time. He lays the flowers on the grave and stands to his full height.  “You’re right on one end. But I’m here to pay my respects.”

“To yourself?”

Jason looks at the child standing next to him and almost smiles. In his eyes, he sees what could’ve been a reality. Unfortunately, it was not to be. “No. To you. The kid I used to be.”

 


End file.
